How do I know that I'm real?
Is it the flow of water over my hands as I swim through the lake?
Feeling the sun warm my skin at the cresting break of day?
Or is it looking in your eyes with my reflection staring back at me?

How do I know my childhood was real?
A dreamscape of fragmented amalgamations
Could I be a figment of my own imagination?
My demeanor a byproduct of a helpless child unhealed

I don't understand how I'm real
When I can't breathe most of the time
I created a place of comfort to visit in my mind
Now I never feel the same after lifting the thinly woven veil

I don't think I could possibly be real
Often asleep in the day to let the fractal dreams take over
It's more real than dirt left behind on the floor
And my reflection in your bright eyes begins to disappear

How do I know that anything is real?
Is it the way I fly through the magnificent stars at night?
Or the way you see me when I turn off my light?
I keep waking up to this reflection but there's nothing in the mirror